Viking Values
by McCRINGLEBERRY1957
Summary: The Hairy Hooligans go about their lives in a barbaric landscape, ruled by villainous trolls, psychotic dragons and other tribes. Possible Pre. Trollhunters Crossover


**This story contains elements from the book series, drafts and artbooks of said franchise. All Canon goes to Cressida Cowell.**

 **All fanon belongs to me.**

 _Chapter 1: Standing at attention like a walking Target_

Way up North, so North that you're right below the Arctic Circle, lies an archipelago. Inhabiting said location are tribes of crazy, ill-tempered vikings. Customs and traditions aside, they're basically large, rough housing, uncontrollable folks. What they lacked in intelligence( and they lacked a lot of it), they made up in weaponry, heartiness and good old Brute Force. Though every now and then, there are people who think and say otherwise.

At the (somewhat) center of the archipelago, lies the Isle of Berk. It's early December and the terrain year-round is 50% hard and 50% marshland. So the added Snow gives the ground an extra 10%. On the Marshland side, a group of 20 young vikings were gathered in deep snow front of a high cliff face, which in turn was in front of a deep river. Although they were all young teens, most of them had developing muscles and hair on their chest (literally). They were talking amongst themselves when their teacher marched in front of them. "Young Vikings! Attend Hut!" He yelled. The youngsters ceased their talking and stood to attention at their teacher. His name was Gobber the Belch and he was an intimidating sight. He was a large man, 7'11 at the most. He had reddish skin, an underbite with a fake tooth, a squint/twitch in his right eye, a blown beard, a braided moustache, and multiple scars on his body. He might've looked a damaged, but he was still ready to fight. "Does anyone know what we're going to do?" asked Gobber with a wise smirk.

"TO GET DRAGONS!" screamed the energetic teens. Gobber chuckled and said, "Precisely. As you all know, you are all 13, an age where you intend on making your marks on the tribe. As Vikings, we live to fight, pillage and quest for the glory of it all. And what better way to do so than to raise your own dragon. While some people own horses, birds of prey and golems, our people own dragons, for they are the most dangerous creatures on Earth. And we Vikings are the most dangerous people on Earth. So these are the steps of becoming a part of The Hairy Hooligans. 1st, climb the Wild Cliff and make your way to the rookery in the middle of the cliff. There's about 20,000 youngsters hibernating right now. And many more eggs lying around." Gobber said with a wink from his bad eye. "Ooooooohhhh!" Said the teens, even more excited than before. Gobber cleared his throat to get their attention. "2nd, and foremost, once you reached the rookery, find, grab and store the largest fledgling you can get into your backpack. For in the future, your dragon will be your hunting and riding animal. Finally, the Initiation of new vikings will take place on the last Thursday in June. When the weather gets warmer, your dragons will awaken between mid February and early March. You'll have a few months to train them and mold them into your image. However if by chance you fail to steal your dragon and/or get seriously injured in the process, you will be forced to resign from the warriors training program and settle for our other less exciting ones. And since the 1st and 2nd steps of this program are the most dangerous, if by any chance you wake a dragon, accident or otherwise, you will be swiftly dismembered and maimed and sent to Valhalla with teeth stuck in your limbs. But hey No Pressure." Gobber chuckled loudly. The young vikings did not find anything funny about that at all. In fact, some of them were even shaking in their boots. Just the mere thought of having your life cut short was an everyday struggle. Speedfist, a motor mouth of a Viking as with curiosity, "Even if we get stuck with other programs, we'll still be valued members of society,right?" Gobber took a second to think about that question. "Oh definitely. But only when you passed This program will you Truly become Righteous!". Speedfist shrugged saying, "Figures". "Finally, the trek to the rookery will be led by Hiccup," said Gobber. Most of the attendance moan and groan for a good 5 minutes. If Gobber's dark humor sentence was like a serious wound, then the announcement that Hiccup was leading was equivalent to adding salt and alcohol to wound. Of the group, 2 boys spoke their mind. The 1st was Dogsbreath the Duhbrain and he was a brute of a boy. With thick arms, short blonde hair, a chubby face and a husky torso, he would've passed of as Gobber's own son. "Aww. Not hiccup. He can't lead a blind yak to the chopping hut if he tried to." The second was Snotlout Snotface. Not as big as Dogsbreath, he was however tall, more muscular and built. He also wore skull tattoos on his beefy arms and wore boots with Spurs. " My friend is right. Anyone with more physique can be a better leader than Useless. Even Fishlegs. If he wasn't already as useless as Hiccup". At the mention of his name, a skinny, jittery boy with glasses started shaking even more. Gobber could care less about their opinion, for he waved his hand in nonsense. "In lighter news, i've just got word from my neighbors. Sven and Drül will be coming home to young dragons in their beds"! The rest of the trainees were clapping and congratulating the two boys. Sven was a quick witted individual with versatile reflexes and a knack of storing valuable items he collects. Drül, the more shocked of the two, was slightly drooling in interest.

One of the Vikings named Clueless asked, "How was that possible? The trial didn't even start yet." A young intellectual female Viking named Neeyla answered for Gobber. "It's household tradition that if a household dragon gets pregnant, chances are that the offsprings will be given to the other occupants". Another female Viking cleared her throat for the floor. Unlike Neeyla, who was brunette, this one was blonde with her bangs covering one of her eyes. "Yes, Astrid? If there's something you need to say, do so". said Gobber. "I do and I will," said Astrid. As she walked towards the front of the group, her eyes were set on one of the boys. He was a head (and a half or so) shorter than the rest and looked young (well younger). His head was covered in reddish brown hair and his face was freckled. This was Hiccup.

Hiccup saw her eyes shivered (for her stare was as cold as the snow falling upon them). Truth be told, he was both greatly intimidated and Aroused by her, though it was the former that kept the latter well hidden. "To save you all time, I'll make this brief," said Astrid. "As you're all aware, Hiccup is weak. He has meager strength and tenacity. Plus no combat coordination. And even if he is the son of our chief, he lacks the courage to lead us to the rookery. So I propose that we pass on the role of leader to someone who isn't prone to failing. Am I right or am I right?" Most of them clapped and cheered at her proposal for leadership. Only Hiccup, Fishlegs, Sven, Drül, Snotlout and a tired Viking named York remained silent. The latter suffered from Narcolepsy and slept randomly, but he was more alert than people thought. Aside from them, Gobber remained silent until the silence kicked in. " I'll admit you're right about him being a little pathetic, but what I say, goes. Hiccup is the leader and that's final." said Gobber. Angry that her idea has been denied, Astrid exhaled and remained quiet. Gobber grabs his horn while stretching. "Well now that we got all that outta way, let the program Commence!" After blowing the horn, he gathered his own pack. "Now if you'll excuse me, Throb and I will be having a picnic/ arm wrestle. Await your leader's commands and Good luck!" As Gobber walked out of sight of the group, Hiccup found himself staring at a bunch of jealous and disapproving eyes.

"Fantastic," he thought. Fantastic indeed


End file.
